Decisions
by VampireNaomi
Summary: It didn't take long before Gray started to have second thoughts about joining the mutineers.


This fic takes place during episodes 10-12. Some of the dialogue is taken and freely translated from the German dub of the anime. Literal translations would have sounded a bit off, so I adapted the dialogue a little to make it flow better in English.

Special thanks to **Gemini Artemis** for helping me with some issues regarding this fic.

**DECISION****S**

There was an odd tension in the air that night. Gray had noticed it right away, the looks and smirks the sailors were giving each other, like they were all enjoying some private joke that the rest of them hadn't been let in on. At first he had thought it was merely the excitement of knowing that they were approaching land after their long journey, but that felt wrong somehow. He thought he could sense something malicious behind the excitement and happy smiles.

The deck was almost deserted in the middle of the night, save for Morgan and Anderson who were on night watch. Gray did his best to stay out of their sight on the quarterdeck for he didn't desire company. Though he liked the sea, the one part about a sailor's life he didn't enjoy was that there was no privacy on a ship.

At least this night the atmosphere was working in his favour. Almost the entire crew was below deck, talking excitedly about their nearing destiny and the middle point of their journey. Few seemed to have any idea why they were trying to reach this particular island, but that only fuelled the wild stories of treasure and adventure. Like the others, Gray was curious about the purpose of the journey, but not curious enough to pass the chance to be alone with his thoughts.

Though he was a little bothered by that the rest of the crew seemed to be hiding something, that was hardly the most pressing matter on his mind. He had taken part in this voyage because he had thought it would give him a moment of peace from the distress at home, but he had realised that the sea had no mercy on him. He couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting back to his cousin who had asked him to join their secret society in Ballinacourty. Gray wasn't so sure about that. He didn't believe in talking and ranting behind the enemy's back; he wanted honest action rather than words.

He stared grimly at the dark water below him. His decision to partake on a long sea journey made him feel like a coward. People he cared about were struggling to feed their families back home, and he was far away, enjoying the deep scent of salt and the warm wind on his face. He felt a deep ache as he thought about the plight of his people and how powerless they were to do anything about it.

"Hey, Gray. Can't sleep?"

He turned around to face Tom Morgan. He didn't know the man very well, but the little contact they had had made him somewhat wary of him. Half of the time Morgan wore a baffled expression that made him look like the dumbest man onboard, but other times he seemed to be plotting something behind everyone's back. That calculating look in his dark eyes always made Gray feel uneasy.

He shrugged. "No. The others are raising such a ruckus," he said.

"That's no surprise. Everyone's happy to reach land soon," Morgan said with a chuckle. "Aren't you excited at all?"

It was an innocent question, but the way Morgan said it made Gray recall his earlier thoughts about the night and how odd everything felt. It was like the world had slowed down only to suddenly erupt without warning.

He realised that he had been silent for a while too long and that Morgan was still waiting for an answer. "Of course I am. It's been weeks since we last saw any land," he said. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back, eying Morgan in the bright moonlight.

Morgan cocked his head towards the captain's quarters. "And what do you think about our commanders? Eh?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Gray asked. He was no friend of Captain Smollett, but he recognised the necessity of his strict attitude towards the crew. Squire Trelawney and Dr. Livesey didn't mingle with sailors, so his impression of them had been formed from a distance. Both seemed like the usual English gentlemen and despite Gray's instinctive wariness of such men, he had nothing bad to say about either one of them. Based on Morgan's tone, however, the man was looking for a negative opinion.

"They still haven't told us the purpose of the journey. We risk our lives here every day. Don't you think we deserve to know?" Morgan asked.

"We get paid. Everything else is irrelevant to me," Gray said. Gossiping about their commanders was not his idea of fun, and he didn't want to start a fight. It would probably be for the best to return below deck and leave Morgan to his duties.

"You must be kidding. Aren't you at all curious?" Morgan was now looking at him with eyes that were so confused that the man seemed almost anxious to hear a different answer.

"I said I'm not interested," Gray said. As he spoke, the sound of approaching footsteps became clear to him. He didn't have to turn to see who was coming; the steady clank of the crutch against the deck made it all too obvious. He only turned to look when the steps stopped.

"Surely you don't mean that," Silver said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "You must have heard the rumours. There could be treasure waiting for us."

"They're just rumours," Gray said. He never knew what to think of Silver. The man was friendly and charming, and he had the aura of a learned man around him. At the same time he was clearly born to be at sea and didn't shy away from even the lowest of tasks. He could move freely between the worlds of the sailors and the commanders and make everyone in both respect him.

Silver hadn't arrived alone. Anderson was with him. Together with Morgan, the men were standing before him in a casual row, but Gray immediately noted that now he couldn't leave without one of them moving first. Were they cornering him on purpose?

"Maybe," Silver said as he reached to stroke the parrot on his shoulder. The bird nipped his fingers with tenderness. "But what would you do if I told you that they're not?"

"I'd ask you how a sea cook could know that," Gray said.

Silver chuckled. His pose was relaxed, and many would have underestimated him because of his charming nature and missing leg, but Gray knew better than that. He had seen Silver move around the ship faster than men with two legs, and the story of his heroics when he had saved Jim from the slave traders was known to everyone onboard. Silver was probably more dangerous than the other two men by his side combined.

"I don't see any reason for us to continue like this, so I'll go straight to the point. I know that Squire Trelawney and the others are here to look for a pirate treasure. I know this because I used to serve as quartermaster for the pirate whose treasure is buried on the island. My friends here were also on his crew," Silver said. He kept a pause here, letting Gray mull it over while never taking his eyes off him.

"What?" Gray blurted out. For a brief moment he only stared at the faces of the men before him, wondering if this was all a dream. Nothing had changed about Silver, but that friendly smile now looked alien. Pirates among their crew? How many were there? The uneasy hunch he had felt the whole day was now like a sudden weight in his stomach, and he regretted that he had ignored it earlier.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked. He was in no position to fight, but if he could grab one of the knives he had in his boots he might be able to hold the men back long enough to call for help – if someone could hear him below deck.

Silver smiled at the anxiousness that was no doubt showing on his face. "Relax," he said. "If we wanted to harm you, we could have done it already."

"Then what do you want?" Gray asked. Silver's words didn't make him feel at all at ease. The man could probably tell any lie without changing that friendly tone of his.

"I and my friends have come here to get the treasure. After all, we worked hard to help our Captain Flint collect it in the first place. I'm sure you agree that it belongs to us." Silver kept a pause here, waiting for Gray's reaction. When he got nothing but silence, he continued, "However, there aren't enough of us to take over the ship and find the treasure," Silver explained.

"So, you want me to join you?" Gray asked.

"You're the carpenter's mate, so you'd be a valuable asset for us. We need at least twenty men to succeed," Silver said.

Gray was silent. Taking part in a mutiny was punishable by death, and he didn't doubt that Captain Smollett wouldn't show mercy to anyone in case the attempt failed. On the other hand, he could be killed now if he refused. He had no idea how many men Silver already had on his side; for all he knew, he could be the last one he hadn't recruited.

"Trelawney and the others won't share the treasure with any of us, but if you join us, I guarantee you'll get your part," Silver said.

"You're going to share the treasure with those who weren't in your old crew?" Gray asked. That didn't seem like a very typical thing for a pirate to do.

Silver shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. "It's better than having none of it," he said.

"What will you do to Captain Smollett and the others?" Gray asked next, but he could already guess.

"You can leave that to us," Silver replied, confirming Gray's suspicions. He'd be siding himself with murderers.

"So, what do you say? Are you with us?" Morgan asked eagerly.

"You mean I have a choice?" Gray asked, not quite able to keep the anger from his voice.

"There's always a choice," Silver said pleasantly. When he continued, his voice was still friendly but had a harder edge to it. "Of course, you understand that we can't let any outsiders know about our plans. Think carefully."

It wasn't really much of a decision. Gray didn't like this and didn't trust Silver, but if he said no, it would be the end of him. They could just stab him and throw him overboard, and nobody would notice before it was too late. Gray didn't want to die like that. He still had too many things he wanted to accomplish. Besides, the promise of treasure did sound appealing. If everything went according to plan, he would make it back home alive and as a rich man – then he could finally do something to help those who needed him.

"Fine. I'm in," he said. He was a little surprised and more than a bit bothered by how easy it was to say those words and become a traitor. Maybe he wasn't as good a man as he had always liked to think.

"Great. Welcome to Captain Silver's crew, Gray," Silver said. Morgan and Anderson were smiling beside him like they were all comrades now and had achieved something significant. Gray had never liked them, but now he found that he could barely look at them.

Silver took several steps away from the quarterdeck, his two men following. He stopped a few feet away and turned back to look at Gray over his shoulder.

"I know that you're a trustworthy man, but I'll have Morgan here keep an eye on you just in case you start having second thoughts. I'm sure you understand that it wouldn't do to have you talk to Captain Smollett," he said.

When Gray said nothing to that, the smile on Silver's face widened until the man was laughing about something only he found immensely amusing. Morgan and Anderson showed no surprise at that. Gray guessed they were used to Silver's flamboyant signs of mirth.

He was again alone with only the steady roar of the waves against the hull in his ears. It was almost like he had imagined the whole thing. Only the unsettling feeling in his stomach and how hard he was clenching his fists in his pockets told him that everything in his life had suddenly turned upside-down.

* * *

They sighted the island that very night. Only a handful of seconds after the first excited yells, the deck was suddenly crowded with ecstatic and grinning men. Everyone was struggling to get a spot by the sides of the ship to catch a glimpse of the island in the dark horizon. Gray didn't mind it when someone pushed him aside and how he stumbled. In the middle of the happy crowd, it was easy to forget that only a few hours ago he had agreed to betray their commanders and follow a pirate.

The excitement from the idea of the treasure had faded quickly after his conversation with Silver and left him feeling cold. He now felt more uncertain and was unhappy with the thought that he had let greed control his actions like that. But could he really be faulted for that? This was the chance of a lifetime.

"Is that really the island?"

He glanced at Jim who was clutching the sides of the ship and pushing himself forward so that he was in danger of falling overboard. When the boy turned to look at the crowd, his eyes were grim with determination that Gray couldn't understand. Jim had been so eager to reach their destination and didn't go a day without talking and laughing about it. Why wasn't he happy now? Whatever the cause was, Jim's sudden grimness reminded him of what he had agreed to do.

At least the boy should be alright, he thought. Jim was practically Silver's best friend, so he was probably with the pirates. Gray observed the other men on the deck, wondering which of them were on their side. It was safe to assume that every man Silver had recommended to Trelawney was a pirate, but they only made about half of the crew.

The thought of Trelawney made him turn his eyes to the three men standing at the bow. Captain Smollett, Dr. Livesey and the Squire were all honest men. They had done nothing to deserve to be murdered by pirates, and Gray couldn't help but feel guilty about what would happen to them. It would take just a few words from him to alert them to the situation, but to his shame he felt reluctant to do so. They were out on the sea surrounded by pirates. The death of their commanders was a given, and anyone who joined them would suffer the same fate. More than that, the three were members of the upper class and English, so he wasn't sure if he could trust them. And then there was the temptation of the treasure.

Captain Smollett gave a speech about what good work they had all done, and Squire Trelawney continued with giving everyone the permission to bring out the rum and have a night free of all duties. Even having the treasure in their hands probably wouldn't have made the crew happier.

"That Trelawney isn't that bad," Anderson said jovially.

"I'm surprised the captain didn't object," Morgan added. He was carrying two steins of rum and pushed one of them into Gray's hands. "Don't be such a square, Gray. Come and join us!" He gestured towards several others who had gathered around the main mast and were already drinking and singing.

Gray hesitated for a moment, not entirely comfortable with the idea. It felt morbid to drink, knowing that the men who had just praised their work and given them a night off would soon die.

Then again, maybe he was worried for nothing. He was always over-analysing things. As he looked at the merry lot around him, he noted how close everyone seemed to be. They were mates and had worked, lived and struggled together all through the long journey. Compared to that, Captain Smollett and the others, living in their cosy quarters, were complete strangers. Since he had to pick a side in any case, why not join those who came from the same class and had more in common with him than their commanders ever could?

He downed half of his rum with a few gulps out of anger at himself and his situation and decided that he would stop worrying and see what would happen. He had already made a choice, so he might just as well go through with it.

Most of the crew was sitting or sprawled all over the deck, singing Dead Man's Chest as a chorus of loud and off-key voices. After a second stein of rum, it was easy for Gray to add his own to it and forget that he had ever been wary of these men and their cause. He was lucky in that regard that he never got angry or irritated when he drank; it only released him from his usual reserved ways and made him eager to reach out to others. He shared stories with O'Brien, another Irishman, and learnt that he was from Blarney, which was close to where Gray's mother had been born. Israel Hands told them outrageous lies about his supposed adventures, and Skinny Dog amused everyone when he almost tumbled over the side of the ship and fell into the water.

Eventually the men started to fall asleep, and the singing and shouting gradually stopped except for Morgan who somehow was sober enough to stay awake. His slurred singing didn't bother Gray for long because he passed out as soon as leaned his back against a cannon, oblivious to everything around him.

Gray didn't know what time it was when he woke up, but it was dark and silent around him. His back ached from the uncomfortable position against the cannon, but that was mild compared to the pounding in his head. He closed his eyes again and tried to will himself to fall back asleep before he started to feel too nauseous. Captain Smollett wouldn't have any mercy on crapulous men in the morning, so he needed all the sleep he could get if he wanted to be able to perform his duties.

There was a scratching sound to his left, but at first he didn't think anything of it. It was probably just one of the others shifting in their sleep.

"Hey, George. Wake up," a low voice said. Gray immediately recognised it. The speaker was Sea Goblin, the large sailor who liked to wear chains around his neck. He always stood out among the crew since he and Morgan were the only crewmembers who weren't white, but even without that Gray would have remembered him. Sea Goblin was as strong as an ox and could work like three men.

At first there was just angry grumbling from George Merry, but finally Sea Goblin managed to get the man awake.

"What do you want? Let me sleep!" George snapped at him.

"Shh, not so loud. I need to talk to you," Sea Goblin whispered. "It's about Silver."

"What about him?" George asked. Now he didn't sound at all tired or drunk, like the mere mention of the topic had sobered him up.

"I think he's not fit to lead us anymore. He's got a soft spot for that brat, and that might lead to trouble. We should pick a new leader," Sea Goblin said.

"Really, now? Who would you suggest?" George asked. Just from his voice, Gray could picture the thoughtful grin that was on the one-eyed pirate's face.

"Myself," Sea Goblin replied, his tone full of confidence.

"What makes you think you'd be better than Silver?" George asked. There was a quiet shuffle as he adjusted his position and sat up. Gray wondered if anyone else was listening in on the conversation and what he should do. Would he rather follow Silver or Sea Goblin?

"Silver has lived the past seven years in Bristol in his tavern. He's not what he used to be. I have more experience," Sea Goblin replied.

George let out an agreeing grunt and was silent for a while. "Have you talked to the others?" he asked.

"Not yet," Sea Goblin said.

"Do that in the morning. I'll keep Silver occupied so that he won't find out," George said.

Sea Goblin chuckled. "So, you'll follow me?" he asked.

"Better you than Silver. I had enough of him even before Flint died," George replied.

Gray heard how Sea Goblin walked away. Everything was silent again. He dared not move a muscle, fearing that George might hear him and discover that someone had learnt of their plans. Gray felt sick, but he couldn't tell if it was because of the rum or because he had just heard even more plans of mutiny. He had no pity for Silver, but it was discomforting to know that betrayal and murder were this common among the people he had decided to join. The merriness and sense of companionship he had felt only hours earlier was all gone.

* * *

Gray was in for yet another disappointment the next day. They were going to the island that day, but he hadn't been chosen as part of the exploring group and was meant to stay back on the ship with seven other men and their commanders. This, however, wasn't the cause of his foul mood.

While everyone was busy preparing the boats, George and Morgan pulled him aside and took him to a quiet corner together with Puppy, the eccentric young lad. Gray hadn't thought the pirates would bother to recruit someone like him, but he guessed they were desperate enough to accept anyone on their side.

"Alright, you two, this is important," George started. Morgan kept watch so that nobody would surprise them.

"What's going on? I was picked for the second boat. They might leave without me if I don't hurry!" Puppy said, craning his neck and standing on his toes to see what the others were doing.

"Shut your mouth and listen! Did Sea Goblin talk to you this morning?" George asked.

"Sure he did. He said you've all decided to sack Silver and make Sea Goblin the new leader. I'm not sure I like that—haha, I mean, it's not like it's my business anyway, but I like Silver more," Puppy said, rubbing his neck and letting out a weak chuckle as he blabbered.

"And you?" George asked as he turned his eyes on Gray.

"Same here," Gray replied. Sea Goblin had approached him at dawn and told him that everyone else had agreed to his plan. Once the majority of the men were on the island, they would ask Silver to hand over his position of leadership to Sea Goblin. If he refused, they would kill him. In that sense he was glad he was to remain onboard. Whatever happened on the island wasn't his problem.

"Good. What you two should know is that nobody is really going to follow Sea Goblin. We don't need troublemakers like him, so we're letting him believe everyone is on his side," George said and nodded at Puppy. "You're coming to the island with us, so be ready when we need to take him down."

"Uh, right, of course," Puppy stammered.

"And you," Merry said, turning to Gray, "you just do whatever Hands tells you to."

"Can I be sure that he's still on the right side and nobody is going to turn against him?" Gray asked. How was he supposed to side with these men when they were ready to stab each other in the back the first chance they got? He couldn't believe anything they said.

"Hey, don't try to be funny. Just because you're with us doesn't mean we won't get rid of you if you get too cocky," George said.

After this latest development, Gray didn't need to have that spelled out for him, but he supposed it was better to keep his mouth shut. George was easily angered and one of the most violent men in their crew. Gray didn't want to try his luck with him, at least not now, so he simply nodded in agreement.

"Good. Now let's get moving. We have work to do," George said. He and Morgan departed and left Puppy and Gray to ponder the recent turn of events.

The lad scratched his head with a baffled face. "This is more complicated than I thought. I hope I don't forget whose side I'm supposed to be on," he mused before following the two pirates.

Gray went to watch how the two boats were lowered to the water and how they started their way towards the mysterious island. There was a foul taste in his mouth as he saw the eager faces on everyone's face and wondered if they were all simply after treasure or whether they yearned for blood as well.

God be praised I'm not among them, he thought. He was a little worried for Jim who was all alone among pirates. He still didn't know if the mutineers had approached the lad, but he hoped so as the boy probably wouldn't come back alive if he wasn't one of them.

With the majority of the crew exploring the island, there was very little for the rest of them to do. In addition to Gray, only seven sailors had remained on the ship. Joyce and Hunter, the only men Gray could say he liked, were nowhere to be seen while the commanders were gathered in Captain Smollett's quarters. That left Gray alone with his five comrades whom he disliked more with each passing second.

The others were gathered together, passing the time with a game of dice. Israel Hands was in charge of the game, and somehow most of the winnings always ended up in his pockets. Whenever the others started grumbling too much, he generously let their debts be so that everyone could take part in a new game. All the others were too caught up in the thrill of gambling to notice it, but Hands was offering them just enough bait to keep them involved while he reaped the benefits.

Hands was perhaps Gray's least favourite member of the crew. He was just as cunning and cruel as the others, but he knew how to hide it from everyone whose trust he wanted to win. He wasn't gullible like Morgan, a brute like George or as deceitful as Silver, but the bad qualities of all three men were present in him, just not as strongly. There was some raw honesty in the wicked gleam in his eyes.

Gray didn't join the game even when Hands asked him, preferring to sit alone and listen to what was going on. He tried to appear calm and ignore the unease that was growing stronger. The sounds of the others, laughing and cursing each other depending on what the dice said, filled his head. Had it really been the best option to join these men? He thought back to the night when Silver had made the offer – or demand – and how easily he had given in.

I need the money if I want to accomplish anything, he thought. His share of the treasure would do a lot of good. Wasn't it better to return home alive with the money rather than die out of loyalty to three Englishmen who would never risk their lives for him in return?

He glanced at Hands and the others. They would never risk their lives for him either, of that he was certain. With them he would always have to keep glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody would attack him from behind.

Yet another thought kept nagging at him. Silver had promised him a share of the treasure, but could the man be trusted? So far everything the pirates had done had only further convinced Gray that they were a treacherous lot. Would the men from Flint's crew really share the treasure with the rest of them, or would they be killed as soon as they were no longer needed?

The more Gray thought about it, the clearer it became that he had picked the wrong side and that there was disaster waiting for him if he continued the path he had chosen. It was likely he would die no matter what he did, but under Captain Smollett's command he would have one sin less to answer for.

Still undecided, he heard someone approach them but didn't open his eyes to look. When Hands spoke and asked the newcomer to join their game of dice, it became clear that the man was Redruth, Trelawney's old servant.

"The captain sent me to tell you that you should come to his quarters," Redruth said. His voice sounded strained, like he had to force every word out of his mouth. Gray couldn't tell if the old man was terrified of Hands and his men or if the invitation to the game had insulted him.

"The captain is waiting for us?" Hands asked. After Redruth nodded, he and the others got up, and Hands gave Gray a poke with his boot. Gray opened his eyes and looked up.

"The captain has sent for us," Hands informed him, as if he were deaf or stupid. Gray had a sudden bad feeling about that; Captain Smollett wasn't one to talk to members of the crew without a good reason. When he did have a reason, it was almost never pleasant. Gray didn't want to find out what the captain had to say this time, but he had no choice but to follow the others.

"We're all here, Captain. What do you want from us?" Hands asked after he had knocked on the door.

"Come in," Captain Smollett said, and Hands opened the door.

The barrel of a musket was pointed at them as soon as the door was open. Hands retreated from the entrance as Captain Smollett stepped out of his quarters, keeping the gun aimed at the man's head.

"Captain, what is this?" Hands asked over the shocked gasps and murmurs from the rest of the men. Before he got a reply, Dr. Livesey and Squire Trelawney appeared, both of them holding muskets that they pointed at the six sailors.

"Put your hands high, make no sudden moves and form a straight row. We know that you're planning a mutiny," Captain Smollett said. His face was a serious mask of effectiveness and without a shred of mercy. Gray felt a wave of defeat wash over him, feeling disappointed in himself. He had severely underestimated the gentlemen and even if his sympathies now partly lay with them, it was too late to do anything about it. He would hang as a mutineer.

Oddly enough, he was almost relieved by the thought. He knew the shame and fear of death would come later, but now it was like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Captain Smollett knew what was going on, so there was no more need for lies and secrecy. He no longer had to battle with himself about what to do; the decision had been taken off his hands.

Hands tried to reason with the captain, but Gray knew nothing would come out of it. True enough, Captain Smollett forced them against the wall and sent Redruth to search them for hidden weapons. Gray always had knives in his boots, but he had no plans of using them now.

So much for that glorious mutiny, he thought as he waited for Redruth to make it to him. He kept his eyes to the floor, for some reason unable to look any of the gentlemen in the eyes. It was now that he realised how utterly foolish he had been to join Silver and his band of pirates.

A sudden yelp from Redruth alerted him to that something was happening. When he turned to look, Hands had pulled a knife from under his clothes and pressed it to the man's throat.

"If you don't want the old man to die, put your muskets down at once," Hands said, a savage smirk marring his face.

"Don't do it, Mr. Trelawney," Redruth pleaded. He was trembling in Hands' grip, but his eyes were firm and showed such courage and loyalty that Gray found new respect for the old man.

Nobody moved or said anything, but relief and triumph on the mutineers' faces and the shock and anger expressed by the gentlemen were exact opposites of each other.

"Well, what's it going to be?" Hands played with the knife back and forth at Redruth's throat, his smirk disappearing as he grew impatient. He was holding all the cards, assuming that Redruth meant anything to the gentlemen. The sensible action for them to take was to shoot Hands and hope that he wouldn't have the time to hurt the old man. Giving in to Hands' demands would mean death for all of them as the mutineers had no need to keep them alive. Everyone knew this, which was why old Redruth was willing to sacrifice his life for his master.

Squire Trelawney's face was twisted with frustration and hatred, but he kept the profanities inside him and threw his musket on the floor with a grunt. Gray blinked in surprise; he hadn't expected a man of such wealth and social standing to value a servant's life enough to risk his own. His few glimpses of the man had made him think he was a fool and a coward, but maybe he had been wrong.

"Eh, how long am I supposed to wait?" Hands asked of Captain Smollett and Dr. Livesey who were still holding their muskets. After a brief moment of hesitation, both men threw their weapons away. Gray was no longer startled by their actions, but seeing someone as strict and official as Captain Smollett admit defeat to save one man's life made him wonder.

"Hey, Gray. Stop mooching about there and pick up the muskets!" Hands snapped at him. Gray only stood with his hands in his pockets and regarded the man with a blank stare. If he did what Hands said, there would be no more danger to the mutineers. If he survived all the backstabbing, he could return home and forget all about this miserable journey.

"Didn't you understand? What are you waiting for?" Hands asked, glaring at him with impatience. It wasn't just him. Gray realised that all the eyes in the room were looking at him.

If he sided with Captain Smollett's men, he would be against two dozen cunning and murderous mutineers who wouldn't hesitate to spill his blood. His chances of survival were better if he did as he was told and forgot all his doubts and fears. Without this recent scene he could have done that and ignored his guilty conscience, but now he found he couldn't that easily go against gentlemen who not only had the law on their side but had proven themselves to be honourable and fair. To side with Hands even after witnessing the courage and loyalty of Smollett's men might profit him in this world, but it would surely doom him in the next one.

With his hands still in his pockets, he slowly walked to the muskets, knowing exactly what he had to do.


End file.
